Honesty
by RishiGenki
Summary: "England...do you like me?" Oneshot, nothing but brotherly fluff.


**Honesty**

**A Hetalia Fanfiction**

**By RishiAndSquee**

**(A/N: Since I always write fluffy stuff about England and Sealand all the time, I figured I should try to shoot for a more…"canon" view on their relationship. I hope you enjoy.)**

**Disclaimer: No, don't own.**

"England, do you like me?"

It was a quiet question on a quiet, fairly peaceful day. England was hard at work—nearly absorbed enough in trying to finish his work on time that he almost didn't hear the hesitant question. The older blond had to look up from his desk at the small boy, who was currently crouched down in front of the desk, playing with his shoelaces. Sandy blond hair poked out of his light blue sailor's hat, and his back was turned to the former British Empire.

Sealand repeated himself.

"Do you like me, England?"

England scrunched his brows, "Yes, of course I do. Why?"

The boy tensed up, his back saying much more then he himself wanted it to. "...no reason, jerk England." he said softly, not moving to look England in the eye.

With brows furrowed, England began to stand up from where he was comfortably positioned in his chair. "There has to be some reason." He commented, gazing down at Sealand's back with a confused expression.

The blond child did not reply. He seemed intent on playing with his shoes, his fingers flying over the laces again and again, avoiding England's prying eyes.

England raised an eyebrow and sighed, "If you insist on being so stubborn, I won't argue." He muttered, crossing his arms, eyes never leaving Sealand's small, seemingly shrinking frame.

The child's back tensed up again. He didn't say anything more, but England could have sworn that he heard a faint sniffling.

"Sealand? Please, why ask that?" England frowned, concern starting to perk in the back of his head, gnawing away at any aloofness that he always tried to portray.

"N-no reason, stu-pid jerk Engla-nd." Sealand replied curtly, his shoulders shrinking as he wrapped his arms around his knees.

England quickly circled around so he faced Sealand and knelt down in front of the boy, "There has to be a reason."

As England stared down at the blond child, Sealand quickly turned his head away, but could not stop England from seeing the tears. Still, his mouth remained in a firm, stubborn, adorable pout. "Nothin'." He said firmly, brows furrowed.

"What's the matter?" England asked extending a hand to Sealand.

The hand was pushed away. Sealand sniffed again and buried his head into his knees, making small hiccups as his shoulders shook. "N-nothin'." he repeated.

England scrunched his brows, "if you don't look at me and tell me what's the matter with you, I'm going to hug you until you do." He warned.

"D-don't you dare."

England gestured to his ear, a smile on his face, despite the seriousness of the situation. "I don't hear anything..."

"S-shut up, you jerk!" Sealand jerked up his head, his eyes angry and in tears. "Don't threaten me t-to just get your way!"

"Come on, lad, tell me why you're mad. Is it because you think you're getting in my way?" "England asked, studying the child. "Because I can assure you that you're not. "

The tears fell with each shake of Sealand's head. "Nuh-huh."

"Why are you mad then? You're mad at me?"

"N-no! I'm not mad a-at you, jerk England." Sealand sobbed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "I-I'm not mad."

"So what's the matter? Why are you crying?" England asked becoming increasingly frantic. He put his hand on Sealand's shoulder, and no matter how hard Sealand shook, it remained there. The older blond squeezed in an effort to comfort the now sobbing boy.

"I'm not crying!" Sealand protested.

England looked at the boy knowingly, almost sympathetically, and his heart began to break as he watched the obviously upset boy wallow in denial. He pouted slightly. "What's bothering you then, Peter? I care about you, so I don't want you upset, especially when you're here."

Sealand buried his head back into his knees. "You're a liar, that's what it is, okay? You're a liar!"

"What?" England protested. His hand began to tighten on the child's shoulder. "I do like you! Why wouldn't I?" he fussed, his eyebrows furrowing even more.

"Liar!" Sealand yelled, his voice muffled from his face being smushed into his thighs. "Liar! Liar, liar!"

"Sealand look at—Peter, look at me!" England commanded, his hand beginning to tremble as he shook the child, who would still not look at him. In response to this command, Sealand buried himself deeper, tightening his arms, as if protecting himself. "Peter, I'm seriously going to hug you, this is your last warning! Please!"

At this, Sealand peeked out of his knees, his chin still resting on his thighs so his mouth remained hidden. He squirmed. "N-no."

"No what?"

"D-don't want a hug."

England rolled his eyes in response to this, getting mildly irritated with Sealand's stubbornness. "And what if I say you're getting one anyway?"

Sealand shrunk back, his backside pressing against the desk. His eyes looked down as he fumbled. "I-I messed everything up. So I thought that you must hate me."

"Messed what up...?" England asked, emerald eyes widening. "Nothing's your fault. You haven't done anything wrong, boy. Why would you think something like that?"

"Liar!" Sealand exclaimed, his face bright red. "Papa Sweden drops me off here almost every weekend, but you never bother to spend time with me! You just sit at your desk and let me do whatever I please! I hate that!"

England, stunned, let go of Sealand and rubbed his own shoulder shamefully, "I...I'm sorry...It's not because of you..."

"It's cause of your work, right?" Sealand sniffed spitefully. "Cause you have to get work done, and I'd just get in the way."

"How come...you don't ask to play with me?"

"Cause you're always working!" Sealand replied, making a face that pained England to see. It was so sad...and lonely. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve in an attempt to cover up his emotions. "Nn..." He pushed his hands into the wooden floor and tried to stand up. "I'm going out now. G-get your stupid work done." he muttered, his cheeks pink from a mix of the tears and blushing.

"Sealand, no! Please I'm sorry!" England jumped quickly with the boy, grabbing Sealand's shoulders once again.

Sealand looked up at England, tears still in his eyes, and a tight frown sewed on his face—much like Sweden's own frown, England realized. He sniffed and looked down. "I-I didn't turn out...how you wanted, did I?" he asked softly. "You didn't want me to grow up like this."

Heart breaking, England knelt down and swiped away some of the tears that had nestled on Sealand's eyelashes. "I...I love how you turned out. You were everything I wanted...I just didn't know how to take care of you..." England muttered.

"...liar." Sealand replied in another mumble. "I'm nothing like a perfect child. You said so yourself, once."

England looked in the child's eyes, eyes widening. "When did I ever say such a...?"

"W-when you were talking with America once. You didn't think I was...there...b-but you said I wasn't a perfect child, a-and I didn't grow up...how you wanted."

England frowned, "The only reason I said that was because I was angry at myself. Your faults are only by my own hand...I should have done better..." He looked away shamefully, biting down on his lip.

"You didn't…do anything in the first place." Sealand replied. He tried to shake England off, but to no avail. "I shouldn't have even been born...I'm not a country, and I'm trying to fool myself otherwise—"

"Don't ever say something like that!" England snapped, tightening his grip on Sealand's arms. "You being born was the best thing that's happened to me in centuries!"

Sealand finally looked up at England. "S-stop lying to make me feel better." he pleaded, tears building in his eyes again. "Y-you're a terrible lia—"

"I am not lying to you! I care about you more than anything!" England fussed, sadness in his moist green eyes. Guilt gnawed away at his chest, and he couldn't help thinking _Oh God, I did it again, I hurt another precious child…_

Sealand bit down on his inner lip. "Y-you never said anything like that before...so why now?"

England took a deep breath, calming himself and his thoughts down, before speaking. "…you have this crazy idea that I don't like you."

"C-crazy?" Sealand echoed the words, disbelief in his voice. However, he stopped himself from speaking, from saying what England had just now realized..

_It wasn't all that crazy. In fact, the idea that England didn't like—much less love—Sealand was actually plausible, with how England had gone about treating Sealand for the last half-century..._

This did not make England feel any better.

The older blond twitched, then quickly grabbed his small, baby brother. England bit down on his lip and tried to ignore the fact that the both of them were shaking so hard, trembling, fearing what the other might say…

Still, when he grabbed Sealand in his arms, England swore to himself that he would not let go easily.

The boy cried out, surprised. "W-what-?"

England grunted in response to Sealand's squeaks, but he still held on tightly. "I said…I was going to hug you. So pipe down and…just hug me back. Please."

At this, Sealand slowly began to stop fighting and squirming. He rested his head on England's lap, a pout still on his face.

"I really don't want you to think for a moment that anything is your fault." England soothed, running his hands through Sealand's sandy blond hair. "Please, please don't ever think that. I love you. I know that I have an odd way of showing it, but I do. Please…don't' ever blame yourself."

And England continued to hug Sealand, for hours, just holding him, wishing that his life had been different. He felt regretful—so very regretful—but more than that, above all, he felt love. He loved his brother. He loved Sealand more than he had been willing to admit, even to himself. He always had, he always would. Nothing would change about that.

_Nothing_.


End file.
